


Goodnight, my impossible girl

by TARD1S



Series: Whouffaldi Prompts [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARD1S/pseuds/TARD1S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignoring The Doctor being teleported to another planet, this takes place directly after 'Face the Raven'. The Doctor, destroyed by Clara's death, goes back to her apartment in need of some sort of comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight, my impossible girl

**Author's Note:**

> Face the Raven reduced me to heavy sobbing and complete denial, so I used my sadness to write an angsty Whouffaldi fic.
> 
> This is my first time on AO3, so sorry for any weird mistakes, I'm only just getting used to it. Please review or whatever it is on here, and fell free to follow me on tumblr: both-time-and-space

The key slipped into the lock with ease, turning it to unlock, the Doctor slowed pushed open the apartment door. He took a deep breath before slowly putting the key back into his pocket. Clara had given him it for emergencies a long time ago, it was like the equivalent of him giving her the TARDIS key, it meant something. 

The Doctor closed his eyes tightly, his hand still gripping onto the door knob before taking the first step into the deathly silent hallway. He braved a few more steps in before shutting the door behind him, the sound echoing loudly, almost like a gunshot. He breathed in once more, the familiar smell of Clara Oswald came to him, comforting, destructive. 

Taking one step at a time, the Doctor slowly walked down the hallway, coming to a stop at the living room. His eyes casted over the scenery in front of him. The sofa with a few cushions laid carefully on it. The large book shelf, and as he drew closer to it, various picture frames placed in front of her books. A picture of her dad cradling her as a child, and the Doctor couldn’t help but pick it up and stare at it. She was just a baby in the picture, a few months old. He placed it carefully back int the same spot before wandering his eyes over to the other pictures before one caught his eye and made his breath get stuck in his throat.

It was two pictures in a open folding picture frame. On the left, a picture of a younger Clara with himself, well bow-tie himself. They were grinning widely at the camera, his arm thrown carelessly over her shoulder as they stood on an alien planet in some market. He remembered the day well, she had brought along her new phone and wanted to try out the camera. He remembered her nervously tapping a purple woman on the shoulder and asking her if she could take a picture. 

He picked up the frame as he looked at the picture on the right. It was of Clara and him again, but him him, eyebrow him. It was a picture of them on the Orient Express, just before they retired to bed. Them by the cocktail table, their arms linking and smiling at the camera. He remember how she said she wanted a nice picture of them, to remember the happy times together. One of the waiters took it, smiling as saying what a wonderful couple they were. Clara didn’t correct him but simply thanked him. Clara was smiling sweetly at the camera, her pearly teeth poking through her dark lipstick. The Doctor wasn’t looking at the camera but rather down at her, a smile on his lips as his eyes focussed on her.

He didn’t realise he was crying until he saw a tear splatter on on her face, and ran slowly down the glass casing. The Doctor felt his legs go beneath him as he fell to his knees. His mouth threatened to open as he scrunched his eyes shut, the tears freely falling down his cheeks. He clutched the picture frame to his chest as soundless screams escaped his mouth between the gasps for breath. 

The Doctor thought around twenty minutes passed before he was able to calm himself down to small whimpers between his lips and he managed to pull himself back onto his feet. Slipping the picture frame into his bigger on the inside pockets. He raised both his palms to his face, dragging them down to clear the tears away, sniffing heavily before biting his lip and willing the tears to stop. He knew if she was here, she would be tutting in the corner with her arms crossed. Saying Come on, you daft old man, stop crying over me. Never in my life would I think that I could make you cry, Mr crazy eyebrows. 

He sighed slowly before continuing to look around the apartment further. His eyes casted over the school marking on the table, the red pen with the lid left chewed at the top. The Doctor smirked at this, she always did loved to chew on things when she was concentrating. The marking would remain unmarked, the pen would dry up. 

The Doctor moved through the living room and opened the balcony doors. The orange glow of the sunset shone through the glass doors giving the room a peaceful setting. He stepped out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air and clasped onto the bar in front of him. His eyes moved over the landscape in front of him, before turning his head to where she would be standing, right next to him. Where she once stood, looking up at him with awe and love. It was too much for him, and his head quickly moved away from her empty spot and to the sunset. 

It was beautiful. And he couldn't help but think of her when he saw it. Beautiful. The radiant sun slowly turning into darkness. He stayed out there until he could see his breath in the bitterly cold air and the stars begun to shone in the sky. His eyes casted up and he started to say avoid every name of the star, like he used to do with her. 

“Oh Clara” He whispered into the night.

“Oh Clara, I miss you” He repeated, his head lowered, focussing on his white knuckles. 

He walked back into the warmth of the living room, shutting and locking the balcony doors after him. He remembered the day when Clara first got this apartment, back when he was the old him. He had helped her all day moving boxes and unpacking with the help of the TARDIS. He remembered how he took pride as she arranged her bookshelf by genre rather than alphabetically like he does in the TARDIS library. All gone now.

He moved out of the living room, past the kitchen and halted at her closed bedroom door. He slowly pressed his head into it, willing himself to not do this to himself, to turn around and leave now. He had hurt enough today, he had been broken enough today. Yet he still opened the door and swung the door open slowly.

Her large bed, the ridiculous amount of pillows taking over the majority of the space. her large wardrobe, no doubt filled with shoes with heels so match up to his height. He chuckled at the amount of times he had complained about her height and she happily argued back saying that she could take him on any day and still win, despite the lack of height. 

He smiled as he saw the mirrors, the several mirrors. He stepped carefully towards the dressing table and sat down. He caught himself in the mirrors. His skin paler than usual, his eyes red raw from crying. His cheekbones seemed to be more sunken in, he looked awful, he looked like death.

He eyes skimmed over the objects in front of him, the makeup, hairbrushes, various perfumes and sprays. He lifted up the perfume bottle that seemed to be half empty and smelt the cap. It was Clara’s smell. He slipped the bottle into his pocket, for those lonely nights where he would be unable to breathe without her. Where he would need to breathe in her scent in order to keep going, and to not stay hidden in that old, blue box forever. 

He slowly rose and walked over to the bed and sat down awkwardly on the edge, near the head rest. His eyes wandered to bedside table and curiosity and need took over him as he opened up the small draw. There was nothing special in there, a lip balm, some hair pins and bands, hand moisturiser and then an envelope. The plain white envelope caught his attention as he picked it up and turned it over to reveal her writing on the front, Doctor, only open this when I’m no longer around.

The Doctor gulped audibly before slowly and carefully opening the seal and retrieving the one page of writing. Her small and neat writing looked like his will as he begun to read.

***

My Doctor,

I wrote this letter to you just incase, as you and I know that things can happen when we travel and in the worst case scenario, I would be separated from you forever. And if you are reading this then I’m sorry, I’m sorry that you are reading this because it means I’m no longer next to you holding your hand. 

I wanted to write this letter because if I have been separated from you, then I know I wouldn’t have had enough time to say all the things I wanted to say to you because I probably spent the time telling you to be safe and to not let the universe make you hard. Do not let me being away from you make you turn into someone that you are not, please Doctor. Be soft, be kind, be the Doctor, please. 

I love you. I doubt I had time to say that to you in our last moments together, because even then I think it would be too difficult for me to say out loud. But I do, I fell in love with you when you were that fool in a bow tie, grinning at me non stop like an idiot. It was impossible not to fall for you. I fell in love with you again after you changed, sure it was tricky at first, but I never stopped loving you Doctor, believe that. 

You are the most impossible man I have ever known, and you are the one person I would never lie to, I would never hurt. Be strong Doctor, for me. Be strong. 

I knew you would come to my apartment after something had happened to me, because you are nostalgic like that and I’m not complaining. Please, take anything you want from here, what’s mine is yours. But I do ask you this, tell my Dad I love him, tell my Gran I love her, please. Could you also buy one last bouquet of flowers for me, and put them on Mum’s grave? Tell mum, I loved her and I’m sorry if I died young but tell her I died happy and hopefully with you beside me, please, Doctor. 

Okay daft old man, my beautiful Doctor, my wonderful, impossible mad man in a box. I know you will keep going, but please keep doing good. You are a good man Doctor, the best I have ever known. I love you, Doctor. 

All my love, 

your soufflé girl, your impossible girl, your carer,

Clara Oswald. 

***

The Doctor tried to avoid the tears from smudging the ink as he re-read the letter at least four times over, taking in ever word, before folding it up and slipping it back into the envelope. Kissing the envelope softly, he placed it in his pocket. He clasped his hands tightly between his legs as he looked over her bedroom once more. 

“I love you too, my Clara” He whispered into the room before slowly getting up.  
He walked through the hallways slowly, looking through each room once more, the memories of her clouding his mind as he stumbled through, gripping the walls for support, dragging his feet behind him.

He reached the front door, and opened it. He turned around and looked down the hallway.

“Goodnight, my impossible girl” He let out softly before switching the lights off and stepping out of Clara Oswald’s apartment for the last time.


End file.
